The Hearts of Knowledge
by RCS
Summary: Candlekeep on the Sword Coast (Forgotten Realms setting) has gathered together a band of heroes to retrieve six lost artifacts.
1. 1

**THE HEARTS OF KNOWLEDGE**

A Dungeons and Dragons: Forgotten Realms adventure

**1**

Albrec Twinblade crouched low to peer under the fern. The halfling scanned the camp in the orange glow cast by its flickering campfire. His wary gaze panned over the human stretched before the flames. The human was clad in an austere dark blue tunic, brown trousers, and soft leather boots. A huge warhorse stood near its master, intent on its grazing. A set of plate mail armor and a saddle lay under a greatsword propped against a tree trunk. Albrec didn't miss the purse tied to the human warrior's belt, and he licked his lips when he saw the half-eaten side of pheasant warming on a spit over the fire. The human was probably saving it for breakfast.

Albrec backed up slowly, careful not to make a sound, and scurried from the fern. He dropped into a nearby depression. Glannor Glimm, a gnome bard clad in a garish purple tunic and black hose, preened himself in a handheld mirror. Their two ponies stood nearby with saddles and gear strapped to their backs.

"The foolish human sleeps without a guard," Albrec said to his friend.

"It has been days since we ate. My hunger I yearn to sate."

Albrec glanced toward his twin baldrics tied to the saddle of his pony. He wouldn't need the two short swords sheathed in the scabbards on the baldrics. One sleeping human was too easy, and having the weapons strapped to his back had the potential to make too much noise.

"Do you have my back, Glan?"

"Indeed I do. Call forth, and my spell flies true."

"Sleep spell only, Glan, we don't want to hurt him."

Glannor nodded and tucked his mirror into his saddlebag. "What else can I do, with spells numbering only two. Magic missile and sleep, my magic repertoire isn't deep."

Albrec quickly returned to the edge of the human's camp and waited a moment to calm his breathing. The human was still asleep.

The halfling crept into the campfire glow and stopped, eying the warhorse. It paid him no mind as it grazed contentedly. He took another step, carefully placing his foot on soft ground devoid of any sticks or other noise-making debris. Another careful step. Closer he crept, his gaze constantly flicking between the man to the horse.

The human moved. Albrec froze, holding his breath.

The human rolled onto his side, but never stirred.

Albrec exhaled slowly, quietly, and resumed his calm breathing. He moved ever closer to the human.

_This was too easy_, he thought. The purse on the human's belt was in plain sight and would be easy to take.

But that wasn't his goal. Instead, Albrec reached for the spit with the pheasant meat.

Albrec and Glannor both had plenty of coin, but out here in the unsettled world, with no sign of civilization for leagues, the gold and silver in their purses were worthless. The half-eaten pheasant was worth more at the moment than all the coins in all their purses: his, Glannor's, and the sleeping human's.

Before his fingers closed around the grip of the spit, Albrec felt himself lifted up by the collar of his tunic. His arms and legs flailing, he craned his head around and found himself looking eye-to-eye to the human's warhorse. The beast had him gripped in its teeth!

Albrec faced forward and took in a breath to call for Glannor, but he exhaled a squeak when he gazed into the stern face of the now-awake human. The man's blond hair was too short and well-trimmed to be disheveled by sleep, and his ice blue eyes narrowed as he leaned close the halfling, their nose tips nearly touching.

"Robbing a sleeping traveler?" the human asked. "Not very hospitable, is it."

"We were hungry," Albrec said.

"We?"

Glannor entered the camp dejectedly. "It is true, we are two."

"We're not very good hunters, you see," Albrec said. "Every time we tried to catch something, we'd muck it up and scare the game away. And neither one of us knows the local plant life enough to know what's poisonous and what's not."

"There was no need to attempt thievery," human said. "If you had only asked, I would have gladly shared my food with you."

"A man of your skill, we thought you'd catch another kill," Glannor said. "We believed this meal you'd naught fret, for another you'd readily get."

"Does he always speak in rhyme?" the human asked.

"You get used to it," Albrec said.

The human gave a noncommittal grunt.

Albrec pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Um...could you tell your horse to let me down?"

"Katla, you can put him down now."

The horse sprayed the back of Albrec's neck with a snort.

"They're not a threat, Katla," the human said. "Believe me, if they had evil intent I could sense it."

Katla snorted again and set Albrec gently on the ground.

"You talk to your horse?" Albrec said.

"She's a smart horse," the human said.

"A bonded mount," Glannor said. "My first to see, on my count."

"She is indeed my bonded mount," the human said. "Pardon my rudeness. I'm Corwin Aldimar, paladin of Tyr. And that is Katla."

"I'm Albrec Twinblade of Waterdeep. This is my friend Glannor Glimm."

"Of the Waterdeep Glimms," Glannor said, bowing. "Master of ballads, marches, and hymns."

Corwin gestured toward the pheasant on the spit. "Help yourself to the bird, men. You obviously need it more than I at the moment."

Albrec and Glannor exchanged glances. Albrec grabbed the spit and yanked it off the fire. He tore off chunks of meat and thrust the morsels into Glannor's waiting hands. He ripped the remains of the meat off the bones and shoved the pieces into his mouth.

Heaven! Back home this would have been a simple meal, but out here in the wilderness it was gourmet.

The edge of his hunger dulled, Albrec slowed his eating to savor the flavor of the roasted meat. Realizing he hadn't even taken the time to sit, he plopped down in front of the fire.

"Better?" Corwin asked.

Albrec nodded, licking juices from his lips. "We owe you, sir."

"Next time try not to steal your supper."

Albrec wondered if the paladin would be as faithful to his morals if _he_ was the one who was starving.

"Aren't you a little far from Waterdeep to be without supplies?" Corwin said.

"Between our blades, spells, and song," Glannor said, "we did not conceive to be without food for very long."

"I'm skilled with the arts of the blade and scouting," Albrec said. "Glannor is a bard of no small repute. Where do you hail from, friend?"

"Neverwinter," Corwin said.

"Methinks we are all far from home. What compels you to the Sword Coast?"

Corwin sat down and rested his forearms across his knees. "I am here at the bidding of my church."

"Must be important."

"It concerns the Triad."

"What's the Triad?"

"They are the allied gods three," Glannor said. "Ilmater, Torm, and Tyr they be."

"You must have a destination, sir paladin," Albrec said.

"Most journeys do have destinations," Corwin said. "Such as yours. What compels you to leave Waterdeep with little wilderness survival training?"

Albrec looked at Glannor. "We've hardly earned his trust by trying to steal his food," the halfling said. "Should we try to gain some of it back by revealing our important task?"

"If a paladin he truly be, then trustworthy is he," the gnome said. "We were vetted by Harpers three, and sent to Candlekeep by the sea."

Corwin rose to one knee, leaning slightly forward. "_You_ were sent to Candlekeep by the Harpers?"

"Aye," Albrec said.

"I'm going to Candlekeep."

"Indeed."

"Lord Nasher went to Waterdeep for a meeting of the Lords' Alliance, and when he returned to Neverwinter he asked the city's clerics of Tyr to dispatch a human warrior to Candlekeep. I was chosen."

"The three Harpers who came to Waterdeep requested that the Lords' Alliance convene. The leaders of Waterdeep, Neverwinter, Silverymoon, and other free cities of the region attended."

"Are you Harpers?"

"I'm not, but Glannor has helped them out from time to time. The Harpers who came to Waterdeep asked for Glannor specifically, and they readily agreed when he invited me along."

"It was an easy sell," Glannor said, "for they had wanted a halfling as well. I was inclined to take my best friend with me, even if out of Waterdeep never was he."

"You've never left Waterdeep, Albrec?" Corwin said.

Albrec scowled at Glannor. "I've been outside the city. Just not past its outskirts. I did patrol duty for the city guard."

"I see. Since we're all heading to Candlekeep, we may as well join company."

"Agreed."

"Indeed," Glannor said. "And agreed."

"Well then," Corwin said. "We're all agreed."

"Shall we toast to our new alliance?" Albrec suggested.

"A toast would be fine," Glannor said, "if we only had wine."

"Sorry, can't help you there," Corwin said.

"The tenets of your order prevent you from imbibing spirits, sir paladin?" Albrec said.

"No," the paladin said. "As long as it's not in excess. I don't have any wine because it's added baggage that's not necessary for my journey."

"We can toast in Candlekeep," Albrec said.


	2. 2

**2**

For four days they rode south along the Coast Way until arriving at the junction to the Way of the Lion heading west. Corwin Aldimar, riding point, was resplendent in his gleaming plate armor, his greatsword lashed to his broad back. Each night at camp he would remove his armor to polish that and his blade before settling to sleep. Albrec, not one to ignore any possible threat they may face, wore a boiled leather cuirass over his tunic and kept his two sheathed short swords on his back while they traveled. And taking Corwin's example, the halfling religiously polished his own blades as the paladin polished his. Glannor, garish in his purple tunic and black hose with his short sword slapping on his hip, whiled the time away by playing his lute both on the road and in camp. Corwin seemed not to mind the distraction—whenever Albrec would ask about his history, the paladin would decline to talk about himself, declaring it to be too much self-aggrandizing, before suggesting they listen to Glannor's compositions.

One night, the third since their meeting, Corwin had opened himself slightly. Perhaps inadvertently.

"Did you always want to be a paladin, Corwin?" Albrec had asked.

The scrape of the whetstone against the steel blade paused as Corwin considered the question. "No, not always. From my birth, I had expected to continue tending the fields on my family farm in Mistledale."

"What drove you to join the church of Tyr?"

"My family had long been members of the church of Tyr."

"Wrong question. When did you decide to become a paladin?"

"At the age of ten. A band of Vhaeraunian drow raided my town of Peldan's Helm, and a lone paladin stood between the raiders and the town. He drove them away, but he sustained too many wounds for even the town priest to heal. Tyr called the brave paladin home."

"And his bravery inspired you?"

"His bravery and his selflessness. From that day onward, I strove to prove myself worthy to be inducted into Tyr's temple to train with their paladins. That day came, and I was squired to a paladin of Tyr. When he was assigned to Tyr's temple in Neverwinter, I went with him. And I've been in Neverwinter since." Corwin resumed sharpening his sword. "I've talked too much about myself now."

And Albrec hadn't gotten much more out of the paladin since.

The Way of the Lion trail sloped upward as it headed closer to the Sea of Swords. At the end of the Way of the Lion, standing alone on a volcanic crag above the sea, was Candlekeep. Its austere walls rose high above the crag, and a single gate was its only point of entry.

Corwin dismounted before the gate, but before he was two steps from Katla the massive gate swung outward. Two men in plain gray robes emerged. Their faces were concealed in voluminous hoods, and one man was a good foot and a half taller than the other.

The shorter man drew back his hood, revealing an elderly human face. "Name yourselves."

"I am Corwin Aldimar of Neverwinter," the paladin said. "My companions are Albrec Twinblade and Glannor Glimm, both out of Waterdeep. We came at the behest of the Harpers."

The robed man peered intently into Corwin's eyes. "Indeed you are what you say, paladin. I am Thaddeus Morewind of the Avowed order of monks, dedicated to protecting our collection in Candlekeep. Come."

Corwin issued a brief, quiet whistle, and Katla fell into step at his heel as he followed the two robed men into Candlekeep. Albrec and Glannor dismounted and led their ponies inside. As they stepped into the courtyard, a stable master took the reins of their mounts. The master knew to not even attempt to take the bonded mount's reins, but instead let the paladin instruct her to go to the stable and watch over their companions' ponies.

The mounts heading to the stables, the taller of the robed men doffed his hood. Albrec jumped when he saw the heavy brow, the tusks protruding from thick lips, and the green-tinted skin.

"Orc," the halfling exclaimed.

"Half-orc," Thaddeus said. "He is the son of my daughter. My grandson, if you will. Come, the others are waiting."

Thaddeus and Kaegan headed for the entrance to the main foyer of the keep. Albrec hesitated a moment, but fell in step with Glannor and Corwin. The monks took them to a vast, sparsely decorated hall with a long oaken table lined with simple chairs. The stone walls were bare, not one tapestry decorated them.

"I'll bring the others," Thaddeus said. "Kaegan, keep our guests company."

Kaegan bowed stiffly at the waist. "Yes, Grandfather."

The elder monk left the hall. Kaegan gestured to the table, and Corwin accepted the invitation to sit. Glannor sat beside the paladin, and Albrec took the chair beside his friend.

"What do you do here in Candlekeep?" Albrec asked.

"We keep the greatest treasure in Faerun," the half-orc monk replied.

"Treasure, eh?"

"Knowledge is their treasure, Albrec," Corwin said. "Candlekeep has the most extensive library in all of Faerun."

"There is no greater treasure than knowledge," Kaegan said.

"Knowledge hasn't filled my belly as well as gold has," Albrec said.

"Are you forgetting how we first met?" Corwin admonished. "You were starving, even though your purse was full. Knowledge of wilderness survival skills would have filled your belly before you spent one gold piece."

"Oh yeah."

"The price of admission into our keep is usually a gift of a book," Kaegan continued. "It is how we add to our storehouse of knowledge."

"A book," Albrec said. "Any book?"

"It has to be a book of great value. However, as we asked the Harpers for aid, and the Harpers sent you, we allowed you inside without the requisite donation."

The four stood as Thaddeus returned with two others.

At the monk's right hand was a dwarf with a long black beard and a chain mail hauberk covering his broad torso. A warhammer hung from his wide leather belt, and a gold holy symbol of the dwarven god Moradin hung from a gold chain around his neck. Leather trews and boots completed his attire.

The elder monk's second companion was an enchantingly beautiful elf woman with emerald green eyes and waist-length dark hair plaited behind her. She wore a studded leather vest molded closely to her feminine torso and a skirt of leather straps that left her supple legs bare. Her feet were adorned with soft leather shoes, whose straps laced up her calves. She wore a long sword on her left hip with a longbow and quiver of arrows slung across her back.

"May I introduce Rorin Hammersmite of Silverymoon, cleric of Moradin, and the ranger Alisia Moonflower of Evereska," Thaddeus said, gesturing to the dwarf and the elf, respectively, with each introduction. "And with my grandson we have Corwin Aldimar of Neverwinter, paladin of Tyr, and the bard Glannor Glimm of Waterdeep. We also have the halfling Albrec Twinblade, also of Waterdeep. He is a, um, swordsman...I believe."

"A scout," Albrec said, tearing his gaze from the elf woman's smooth, supple legs. "I was a scout for the Waterdeep guard. A practitioner of sword and stealth."

Corwin effected a bow before Alisia Moonflower. "My lady."

The dwarf, Rorin Hammersmite, strode right up to Glannor and slapped a powerful palm against the gnome's shoulder. "Glannor, me boy. Long time no see, eh?"

"The years number fourteen," the bard said, "since by my eyes you've been seen."

"I see ye still have the curse."

Albrec looked at his friend. "Curse? What curse?"

"Ye haven't noticed yer companion speaking in rhymes?" the dwarf said.

"I just thought he was weird."

"A curse brought upon by me, when I asked a wish of a genie," Glannor explained. "Because of the curse, I can only speak in verse."

"He was a lousy poet at first," Rorin explained. "Couldn't rhyme to save his life. He released a genie on one of his travels in the North, who granted him one wish. His wish was to rhyme better."

"Now I rhyme all the time."

"Glannor went to all the temples in the Silver Marches for a cleric to remove the curse, including the temple of Moradin in Silverymoon where I was an initiate at the time. Obviously, ye found no cure."

"Misstating my wish was my mistake. Now this curse, off me, no cleric can take."

"When will the Keeper of the Tomes see us?" the elf, Alisia Moonflower, asked.

"Who's that?" Albrec queried.

"The Keeper of the Tomes rules Candlekeep," Corwin said.

"My lord Ulraunt is unavailable at the moment," Thaddeus said. "My apologies, but he is involved in a divination that may assist in the task that we brought you here to accomplish. I can explain our dire need, however."

"We're listening," Rorin said.

"The six Hearts of Knowledge are gone."

"What are the Hearts of Knowledge?" Corwin asked.

"Six gems of incomparable value," Thaddeus replied.

Albrec looked at the paladin. "I thought you said the only wealth here was knowledge."

"The Hearts of Knowledge aren't ordinary gems," the elder monk said. "They are ancient relics of untold power that would be dangerous if unleashed improperly."

"Candlekeep has become so adept at protecting our stores of knowledge over the centuries," Kaegan said, "that we are sometimes entrusted with magic that should not be free in the realms. We have the physical security you see in the great stone walls of the keep, and we have the security of secrecy. No one but the Keeper of the Tomes himself knows all that we have stored here."

"And it is the duty of the Avowed to ensure it stays that way," Thaddeus said.

"Kind of mucked that one up, didn't you," Albrec said. "Someone found out about those Heart gem things."

"I don't know everything about the Hearts of Knowledge," Thaddeus continued, ignoring the halfling. "I don't know exactly what they do, only that they'll prove dangerous to Faerun, and maybe to all of Toril, if they're unleashed by improper hands. They are six gems. The Sapphire of Humankind, the Emerald of Elvenkind, the Ruby of Dwarvenkind, the Amethyst of Gnomekind, the Topaz of Halflingkind, and the Obsidian Shard of Orckind. Only a member of each race can safely handle each respective Heart."

"The thieves worked fast," Kaegan said. "The detect evil spells we had in place detected them as soon as they breeched the vault. The Avowed responded quickly, but the thieves had already absconded with the Hearts of Knowledge."

"There was more than one thief?" Albrec asked.

"I believe they would need at least six," Corwin said. "One from each gem's race."

"The vault was still intact when we arrived," Thaddeus said. "Its exterior wards were still in place."

"They used a gate spell," said a commanding voice.

All in the room turned toward the speaker. An aged human in a white mantle stood erect with his hands behind his back. His white hair and beard were short and trimmed.

"The vault wards protect against gate spells, my lord Keeper," Thaddeus said.

"Not if the wizard who cast the spell is a skilled and powerful spell-caster," Ulraunt, the Keeper of Tomes, said. "Casting such magic against our ensorcelled vaults is not without risk. We know the origin of the gate spell."

"Where the gate began," Glannor said, "has to be where the thieves ran."

"They have most likely moved from there," Ulraunt said, "but it is a place to start. I requested the Harpers to gather one member of upstanding moral character of each of the requisite races to retrieve the stolen Hearts of Knowledge."

"Except the orc," Albrec said.

"That role will fall to my grandson," Thaddeus said, putting a hand on Kaegan's shoulder.

"But he's not a full orc."

"Orc blood runs through his veins. It's enough to handle the Obsidian Shard."

"Theoretically," Ulraunt said. "We do not know for sure if the Obsidian Shard will resist his human half. Our natural philosophers are divided on which blood is dominant, his mother's blood or his father's blood."

"I am willing to take the chance," Kaegan said.

"What do the gems do?" Alisia asked.

Albrec turned his gaze toward Alisia at the sound of her melodic voice. The gods be praised, the elf was the most beautiful creature he had seen this side of halflingdom.

"It's best you don't know," Thaddeus said. "But know this, you must only touch the gem that matches your race. Mere contact with one of the other gems could prove fatal."

"They need to know more to understand the urgency we face," Ulraunt said. "The Hearts of Knowledge are infused with knowledge...knowledge that can be used for good or ill. The knowledge contained within the gems can only be accessed if held by a member of the appropriate race while a specific ritual of release is performed. Only the most powerful of wizards can perform the rite."

"Such as a wizard powerful enough to cast a gate spell through the wards in place around the vault," Rorin said.

"Indeed."

"Where was the gate's origin, Keeper?" Corwin questioned.

"A seven-day ride to the south, in Amn," Ulraunt said. "A city called Crimmor. Trade caravans frequent that city, so it would be easy for a wizard and his underlings to come and go with little notice."

"And that is where we must begin our search."

"It is."

"Pardon my ignorance," Albrec said, "but how do we find where the wizard and his minions spirited the Hearts to once we arrive in Crimmor? Surely they would be long gone by now."

"The presence of the Hearts disturbs the Weave," Ulraunt said.

"What's the Weave?"

"The Weave is the manifestation of magic," Rorin explained.

Ulraunt continued. "With the proper divining rod, you can determine the direction of their flight once the Hearts emerged from the gate into the material plane. You should be able to follow the trail from there."

"And you will provide this divining rod?" Corwin asked.

"The Elven Court of Evermeet has provided the divining rod," Alisia said. "They brought it to the Hill Elders of Evereska. I have it with me, though I did not know its purpose until now."

"Did the Hill Elders perform the binding rite?" Ulraunt asked.

"They have."

"Then you are the only one who can use the rod, Alisia. Hand it to me, and I'll perform the rite that will attune the rod to the Hearts' disturbance in the Weave."

Alisia removed a wooden wand from her quiver and handed it to the Keeper. Ulraunt tucked it into his sleeve and left the hall.

"The holders of the Hearts may be traveling separately," Thaddeus said. "Or they may be traveling together. We won't know that until you get to Crimmor and use the elven divining rod."

"What if they do separate?" Albrec asked.

"We choose one trail and follow that," Corwin said. "I would think they must be gathered together at their final destination to perform the ritual to activate the Hearts."

"Indeed," Thaddeus said.

"Another question," Albrec said. "If the thieves are not of high moral character, what's to keep them from going off on their own agendas with the Hearts?"

"The Hearts of Knowledge are useless singly, Albrec."

"Perhaps, but they are still gems. A thief could fence one for a hefty profit."

"I see your point, but a wizard who could cast the powerful spells capable of succeeding in this theft could compel the thieves' continued loyalty to his aims."

"The thieves may not even be black of heart," Kaegan said. "They could very well be mere pawns to the wizard's design."

"You will depart at first light tomorrow," Thaddeus said. "You will be shown to your quarters for the night. You'll be allowed time to clean up from your travels before evening dinner is served."

Albrec headed for the door. "Very well, I could use a repast."

As he walked past Alisia, he "accidentally" caught his foot against the back of his other heel, and he sprawled face-first on the floor, his head conveniently between her feet. He craned his head back to look up Alisia's skirt.

He was suddenly yanked upward and lifted several feet off the floor before he could even get a glimpse of what kind of undergarments the elf chose to wear. Corwin, holding Albrec by the collar, turned the halfling around so he looked directly into the paladin's stern eyes.

"That wasn't very gentlemanly," Corwin admonished.

"It was an accident," Albrec said.

"Uh-huh."

"It was."

Alisia stood close, and Albrec sensed her sweet wildflower scent. With Corwin still holding him, his head was higher than hers, he looked down to gaze into her eyes.

"You can put him down, Corwin," she said. "He won't try that again."

Corwin eyed her. "My lady?"

Alisia smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye, as she caressed the hilt of the sword sheathed on her round hip. "I can't guarantee how I would react to another such invasion of my personal space. I could perceive it as a threat."

Albrec swallowed. "Yes, milady."

Corwin set Albrec on the floor and gave the halfling a soft shove toward the door. Albrec strode quickly from the paladin and the elf, not even risking a look back. Glannor fell into step beside him.

"Albrec, you never learn," the gnome said. "Women of the taller races you still yearn. 'Tis trouble you seek, and the outlook of your success is bleak."

"Shut up."

"'Twas not I for the dwarven smith's sister did vie. Were if left to him, you'd have had a manhood trim."

Rorin, suddenly at Albrec's side, clapped the halfling roughly on the back. "Ye had yerself a dwarven woman, little one? Ha-ha! It's a wonder ye can still walk."

"I didn't get too far with her before her brother interrupted us and threatened to cut off my manhood," Albrec murmured. "It kind of spoiled the mood."

"He probably did ye a favor, halfling. A dwarven woman is not as delicate as an elven woman, or even a human woman." Rorin again slapped Albrec on the back. "Perhaps ye should stick to halfling women."

"To heed your counsel, common sense requires," Glannor said, "but what Albrec can't have, his heart desires."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Albrec said.

Rorin laughed and clapped Albrec on the back. The halfling winced.

-

At dawn the following morning, the band of six rode from Candlekeep. Albrec rode out front with Kaegan Morewind, who had replaced his gray robes with loose-fitting shirt and trousers and soft leather shoes for the journey. The halfling thanked the gods to be a part of something important, like the stories of wondrous deeds he'd heard as a child. In seven days they would arrive in Crimmor, where their own tales of heroic deeds would begin.


	3. 3

**3**

The roadside tavern lay on the outskirts of a village whose name was not important. On a major Amnian trade road, its patronage included folks from many lands. Most were merchants and their hired guards, so it was not uncommon for armed men to drop in for a quick ale before getting back on the road with their caravans. No one gave Territ Fetterlis, a human with leathered skin and unremarkable brown hair, a second look as he entered the tavern wearing his chain mail hauberk and sheathed sword. His companion, however, would have drawn attention to the two of them if not for the hooded cloak he wore over his obsidian face and white hair.. Rizzan Pharn, a drow, was clad in a chain mail hauberk and had a morningstar tucked into his belt. Some patrons gave the holy symbol of Vhaeraun that the drow cleric wore around his neck a second look. Territ and Rizzan settled into chairs at a table near the tavern's bar.

Territ rubbed at his chest, where he felt the telltale lump of the Sapphire of Humankind under his hauberk. Like his comrades, he wore one of the Hearts of Knowledge on its silver pendant setting.

"Athmek didn't give us much time to wet our tongues," Rizzan said. "It's best we drink one tankard and get back to the wagon."

"I long to unfetter my restraint," Territ said. "I have not had the chance for mayhem since Athmek recruited me for this venture. Can we expect anyone to impede us here?"

Rizzan bowed his head slightly, and his fingers moved in time to his chants to a divine power that Territ didn't understand. The drow pointed to a table to his left.

"There," Rizzan said. "Four do-gooders. Probably adventurers off to right whatever wrongs they encounter."

Territ cast a surreptitious glance in the direction the drow pointed. Four men sat around the indicated table, wearing travel clothing dulled with road dust and belts hung with weapons. Two humans, an elf, and a dwarf all nursed tankards in their calloused hands, their wary eyes assessing the two newcomers.

"Do-gooders," Territ scoffed.

A lithesome young red-haired woman, the bodice of her dress cut low enough to show generous cleavage, sidled up to the table. "Can I get ya anything, love?"

"Two tankards of your finest ale," Territ said.

"Our finest?"

Rizzan set a silver coin on the table. "Your finest."

The barmaid scooped up the coin and headed for the bar, Territ watching her feminine movements as she did. What he would do just to feel her tender flesh in his hands. She returned with a pair of tankards, which she set on the table.

Territ pulled the barmaid down onto his lap. He reached down her bodice and cupped her breast. He salivated as he felt the warm softness against his palm.

She shrieked, struggling, but Territ continued to grope her at his pleasure.

As expected, the four do-gooders rose from their chairs at the sound of the barmaid's screams. Territ removed his hand from inside her bodice and gripped its neckline as he jumped to his feet. The only thing keeping the barmaid from being spilled onto the floor was Territ's firm grip on her bodice.

He gave the material a hard tug, exposing her.

Rizzan stood beside him and doffed his hood, revealing his drow features and his shock of white hair.

The four do-gooders advanced. Territ drew his sword and pulled the barmaid against him. He set the edge of his blade against the lower curves of her bared bosom.

"There's no need to hurt the girl," the human with the neatly trimmed red hair and beard said.

Territ's lips split into a grin as he assessed the bearded human. The bearded man wore unremarkable looking shirt and trousers and a longsword on his hip. What caught Territ's attention was the holy symbol of Torm worn at the man's neck. Torm, one of the gods of the Triad, was a foe of Territ's own god, Cyric. Territ was only too happy to send the man to Torm.

The other do-gooder human, the long-haired mustachioed one, was dressed like his friend, but he had a battleaxe slung across his back. Their dwarven companion also had a battleaxe strapped to his back, and the elf was armed with longsword and dagger.

"One step more and I cut her," Territ said, dimpling the barmaid's breasts with the edge of his blade. She gasped at the cold, sharp steel.

The do-gooder elf's fingers moved in concert with his lips. Rizzan was faster, reciting the words to a spell of his own. Three conjured stones appeared in the drow's palm. Rizzan hurled one stone and missed. A bystander's head snapped back as the stone pierced his forehead. The innocent man was dead before he knew what happened.

Rizzan threw the second stone, striking the elf in the chest. The elf's hands groped at his breastbone even as blood bubbled from the gaping wound caused by the magical stone. He slumped to his knees and toppled sideways.

Territ groped the barmaid one last time before lifting his sword and slitting her throat. As blood gurgled from the cut, he tossed the dying girl toward the human adventurers. The bearded man caught her and gently laid her on the ground as his two surviving companions stood over him.

The bearded human laid both hands on the barmaid's cut throat, and glazing eyes became once again lucid. She peered adoringly up at her savior. Territ wanted to retch.

When the man took his palms off her neck, her injury was gone without so much as a scar. He unclasped his cloak and draped it over her to cover her exposed chest.

Territ recognized a laying on of hands when he saw one.

"So, you're a paladin," he said. "I'm going to enjoy this, do-gooder."

Rizzan hurled his last stone at one of the bystanders. The do-gooder dwarf attempted to intervene, tried to take the stone with his own broad chest, but the magical stone struck a well-dressed merchant in the nose and plunged deep into his face, killing him instantly. The drow pulled his morningstar from his belt and swung it at the dwarf. Not caring who may be standing around him in the close quarters of the well-patronized tavern, the spikes of his morningstar slashed across several bystanders before landing against the dwarf's parrying battleaxe.

The dwarf redirected his battleaxe from the parry for a counterstrike. Rizzan batted the blow aside and pressed the palm of one hand against the dwarf's chest as he simultaneously chanted a spell. The dwarf cried out as the skin of his chest peeled away from his rib cage, staining the front of his tunic with bright crimson. Rizzan followed up by striking the dwarf's skull with his morningstar. The dwarf fell dead beside his slain elven companion.

Territ brandished his sword before the two human adventurers. He taunted them, beckoned them. The bearded human, the paladin, rose to his full height and drew his longsword from its scabbard. The mustachioed human unlimbered his battleaxe.

The mustachioed man swung his axe in a lateral arc. Territ blocked the stroke with his blade and whirled around. The edge of his sword cut the axeman across the gut, eviscerating him. As entrails spilled onto the floor, the adventurer dropped his axe and slumped to his knees. Territ ignored the fatally wounded man as he turned his attention to the paladin.

Blades came together in a ring of steel on steel. Territ laughed as he spun away from the paladin's next blow. He deliberately thrust the point of his sword into the belly of a bystander.

If the spectators were dumb enough to stand around to watch the fight instead of fleeing for their survival, Territ wasn't averse to showing them how dumb they were.

The paladin lunged an attack, and Territ pulled his blade free of the spectator to parry.

The tavern started to clear as patrons realized that their continued presence inside was hazardous to their survival. The room was empty now save for the three combatants and a handful of patrons who decided to watch the conflict from afar as they hugged the walls.

The paladin was brave but foolish, Territ thought. Outnumbered two-to-one, the paladin should have cut his losses and run. That's what Territ would have done in that situation.

Paladins, however, were the worst of the do-gooders. They risked their lives for _others_, protecting the weak instead of exploiting them. They were sanctimonious and self-righteous, and there was no one Territ enjoyed killing more than a hated paladin.

Rizzan attacked the paladin, and the do-gooder deflected the blow.

"He's mine to kill!" Territ demanded, lunging with his blade.

The paladin parried and delivered a counterstrike. Territ deflected the attack. He reached behind him and pulled a dagger from the sheath at the small of his back. He cocked his arm and hurled.

The point of the dagger plunged into the paladin's thigh, and he dropped to one knee. Territ attacked with an overhand blow of his sword, now gripped in both hands, and the paladin lifted his sword over his head to defend. Steel rang as the blades came together.

Rizzan slammed his morningstar into the paladin's back. The do-gooder slumped forward, bracing one hand against the floor to keep himself at least partially upright.

"Damn you, Rizzan, back off!" Territ cried. "I want to kill this holy bastard myself."

The paladin weakly lifted his sword to block, but Territ redirected his attack. He clove the paladin's sword arm off at the elbow. He kicked the paladin onto his back and stood over him with his feet planted on either side of him. With two quick thrusts, Territ stabbed the paladin's eyes.

The barmaid, one of the few who remained to watch, moved forward as she cried out for Territ to stop. A large-muscled man held her back.

"Just finish him off, Territ," Rizzan said.

Territ slashed the paladin from neck to navel. Crimson surged from the wound and soaked the front of his tunic, spilling onto the floor.

"Why do it quickly when I can enjoy his misery?" Territ said.

"Stop it!" the barmaid cried.

"Aw, weeping for your hero?"

Territ advanced on the barmaid, and before she or the big brute of a man with her could react he flipped her cloak aside to expose her torn bodice. The big man who held her tried to intervene, but Territ dispatched him with a sword thrust through the gullet. Territ gazed longingly at the barmaid's breasts, anticipating how they would taste. How they would look covered in the red sheen of blood when he cut her throat again.

The tavern door burst open and slammed against the wall. A dark-robed figure stood framed in the doorway. Dressed all in black from the hem of his robes to the hood of his cloak, his face was wrapped in black cloth to allow only his dull eyes to show.

He raised a hand, index finger extended. A magic missile erupted from his fingertip and struck a glancing blow against Territ's right eye. Territ cried out and whirled to face the cloaked man, covering his destroyed eye with a palm.

"What the—" he sputtered. "You ruined my eye, Athmek!"

"Consider yourself fortunate I need you alive to carry the Hearts, or I would have killed you both where you stand. I told you not to draw attention to us."

"We were only venting some frustration."

"It was Territ's idea," Rizzan said, putting his morningstar away and pointing accusingly at Territ.

Athmek, the wizard who was the group's mysterious employer, surveyed the carnage in the room. His gaze settled on the writhing paladin. He fired a magic missile into the dying man's chest, killing him.

"He was my kill!" Territ shouted.

"Then kill him," Athmek said. "Torturing him to death just to derive pleasure is perverse. Come, your playtime is over."

"What if we're not done?" Territ said, his hungry gaze falling once again on the barmaid. He was chagrined to see that she had covered herself.

"I need you alive to carry the Hearts," Athmek said, "but I don't need you in one piece. You can carry the artifacts just as well if you were eunuchs."

Territ and Rizzan glanced down at themselves. "Point taken," the drow said.

The pair scurried from the tavern. As Athmek turned to leave, the tavern bartender rushed up and grabbed the wizard's sleeve.

"Thank you, sir!" the bartender said.

Athmek effortlessly grabbed the front of the bartender's tunic and hurled him back. The wizard left the tavern and turned up the road toward their waiting wagon. Territ and Rizzan fell into step behind him.

Athmek's tent had been erected beside their wagon for their stay overnight. Territ hadn't seen the style and design of the tent before, and it only added to Athmek's mystique. Outside the wizard's shelter, three other members of their group sat around a crackling fire. Fangor sug Thorgg, a huge orc, leaned on the haft of his dwarven-made war axe, a trophy from one of his many battles, as he watched the other two play a game of old men's bones. Thak metKoth—a gray dwarf, or duergar—and Kraat—a deep gnome, or svirfneblin—were hunched over the pile of lacquered wood sticks carved to look like the bones of a fowl.

Rizzan walked up and kicked the pile, laughing. Thak and Kraat leaped to their feet. The duergar unlimbered his axe, and the svirfneblin drew his short sword and his hatchet. Rizzan brandished his morningstar. Fangor grunted his encouragement to the expected battle.

"Stop!" Athmek commanded.

Rizzan, Thak, and Kraat all lowered their weapons.

"I will dismember you and cart you to our destination in the back of the wagon," Athmek said. "One more display such as this, and I _will_ turn one of you into a eunuch. I don't care which one. Are we understood?"

The trio nodded. Territ offered them a smug grin.

"Don't gloat too much, Territ," Rizzan said. "I'm not the one who lost my eye in the tavern."

Territ scowled. "Aye, speaking of which. Are you going to restore my eye, Athmek?"

"No," the wizard said and ducked into his tent.

Territ followed him into the tent. "Why not?"

"Let the loss of your eye be a lesson on obedience. I told you to keep a low profile in this camp, and you caused a disturbance in the tavern. We'll have to break down our camp and depart this place as soon as possible."

"Why is that?"

"Someone has surely sent a messenger to the next city for troops. Which means we'll have to remain off the road for the next few leagues."

Territ looked to the cage near one of the tent's canvas walls. Athmek's concerns already forgotten, Territ knelt beside the cage and peered at the frightened creature inside.

A female halfling cowered inside the cage. Dressed in a simple homespun dress, she looked like a beautiful dark-haired human woman save for the fact that she was only half the size of the average human. The Topaz of Halflingkind glittered in the tent's torchlight, nestled in the cleavage revealed by her low-cut bodice as it hung from a fine silver chain.

Athmek had kidnapped her from her home village and had forced her to go along with the theft of the Hearts of Knowledge, lest he destroy her village to every last halfling. Territ wasn't certain, but he was sure the halfling woman hadn't been chosen for any particular reason save she was a halfling. Athmek had simply strolled into a random halfling village and had abducted a random halfling. Apparently, Athmek hadn't the time to find a halfling of evil heart who would willingly go along with the theft.

Celesta Brumble, the she-halfling, scooted to the back of the cage as Territ reached through the bars. His loins stirred as she cowered in fear. Her simple dress would be easy to tear from her tiny body, and he envisioned the cries of pain that would issue from her tiny throat as he forced himself on her.

Athmek grabbed his collar and pulled him from the cage.

"Don't even think it," the wizard said. "I can't risk you harming her."

"I won't kill her."

Athmek turned an hourglass over, setting its sands to draining into the empty glass.

"What's that for?" Territ asked.

"Get the others to working," Athmek said. "If this camp isn't broken down and ready to depart by the time these sands are done flowing, I will remove a random appendage from each of you. Hand, foot, ear, it matters not to me."


	4. 4

**4**

The fortified city of Crimmor, considered the caravan capital of Amn, was a place where traders of all types gathered before heading to the lands north. Albrec and his companions hadn't spent much time in the city. Once Alisia had obtained the direction of the thieves' flight with her magical rod, the party departed Crimmor's walls. They traveled the trade road by day, stopping to rest alongside merchant caravans at night.

Seven days out from Crimmor, the companions arrived at a roadside tavern that was a popular camping stop for the merchant caravans. While Glannor, Rorin, and Kaegan set up their camp Albrec went into the tavern with Corwin and Alisia. Albrec volunteered to help gather supplies in the tavern for two reasons: it was a good excuse not to pitch the tents and it kept him close to the desirable elf.

The sparsity of patrons inside the tavern surprised Albrec. He had expected an establishment on the side of a trade road—especially if the place was the only one for leagues—to be more bustling than this. There were a total of five people inside, and two of those were employees in the form of a bartender and a barmaid. Five pairs of eyes were looking toward the three newcomers.

The bartender, shining a brass mug, flagged their attention with a wave of his hand. "Leave your weapons outside. No weapons allowed in here."

"Very well," Corwin said.

Corwin and Alisia turned to leave. Albrec, however, headed for the bar.

"I'm not giving up my blades," the halfling said.

"We must abide by the wishes of the proprietor," Corwin said. "If this place doesn't allow weapons, we must return after we have divested ourselves of our armament."

"It didn't ever used to be like that," one of the patrons said. "Use to be we could come in right off the road, but now we have to take the time to make sure our weapons are secured in our camps."

"What changed?" Albrec asked.

"Some folk like you come in and killed some people for no reason."

Corwin turned to the speaking patron. "Folk like us?"

"Armed freebooters. Adventurers. They had a wizard with them. Odd lot they were, too."

"How odd?"

"Me throat be getting parched with all this talking, and me mug is almost empty."

"Don't try to fleece them, Alvin," the bartender said.

"Why not?"

"They're perspective customers, and I don't want you chasing them off. As you can see, business in here has been slow since the massacre."

"How long ago was this attack?" Corwin asked.

"Eighteen days ago," the bartender said.

"That sounds about right," Alisia said. "The thieves would have been through this area about that time."

Corwin took a silver coin from his belt purse. As he moved forward to set it on the bar, the bartender waved him back.

"No weapons," the bartender said.

The barmaid's gaze never left Corwin since they entered, and she finally spoke. "He wears the holy symbol of Tyr."

"Aye," the bartender said. "So?"

The barmaid took a tentative step toward Corwin. "Are you a paladin, by chance? The last man who came in here with the holy symbol of one of the benevolent gods displayed openly like that was a paladin."

"How long ago?" Corwin asked.

"The same time as the murderers," the bartender said.

"They killed him," the barmaid said, putting a hand to her throat. "They killed him and his three friends. They tried to stop the killers from hurting me, and they were killed for it. I'd be dead if not for the paladin."

"Paladins a rare in these parts," the bartender remarked. "And now we had two within a month's time."

Corwin was visibly affected by the news of the death of one of his brother paladins. "What god did he follow?"

"Torm. An ally, I gather, since your god and his are part of the Triad."

"We'll talk more after we rid ourselves of our weapons."

"No need, sir paladin. You're no threat. You and your companions are welcome here with your blades."

The barmaid continued to stare at Corwin. Alisia gave him a smirk, her eyes laughing.

"You have an admirer," the elf remarked quietly.

"Those killers," the paladin said, ignoring her comment. "How many?"

"Two did the butchering," the bartender replied. "A human and a dark elf."

Alisia blanched. "A drow would not associate with a human, even if they share the same depraved morality."

"Any others?" Corwin asked.

"Aye," the bartender said. "They had a wizard with them. He could have been a human or a moon elf by the size of him, but he kept himself covered up. I could only see his eyes, and they weren't something I care to look upon again. They had others with them. A big, ugly orc, a gray dwarf and a...uh...deep gnome I think they're called."

"That accounts for all but the halfling," Corwin said to Alisia.

"Maybe he didn't see the halfling," Alisia said. She threw Albrec a glance. "They can be hard to notice when they want to be."

"Maybe the wizard just couldn't find a villainous halfling willing to go along with his nefarious scheme," Albrec said.

"_Someone_ took the Topaz of Halflingkind, Albrec. It was stolen with the other Hearts."

"Did you see which direction they took when they left?" Alisia asked.

"They left in the middle of the night," the bartender replied. "Before we could bring troops in from the nearest garrison to apprehend them."

"If they were concerned about avoiding the authorities," Corwin said, "they probably left the road."

Alisia took her divining rod from her quiver and headed out of the tavern. Albrec and Corwin followed close behind her.

Corwin's bonded mount, Katla, waited outside the tavern for the paladin. The mare fell into step beside Corwin, and he reached up to stroke the side of her head.

As explained by Glannor recently, a paladin's bonded mount was not an ordinary horse. Albrec could believe it after watching Katla over the course of their journey. She was overprotective of Corwin, and she never did seem quite willing to trust Albrec despite Corwin's assurances. Kaegan the half-orc she trusted, but Albrec she didn't. Go figure.

Albrec was shaken from his musing when he slammed into Alisia's leg. He wrapped both arms around the bare leg to keep from bouncing onto his backside. He continued to hug her leg, enjoying the feel of the soft, smooth flesh against his hands.

He looked up to see Alisia, Corwin, and Katla all looking down at him. He grinned sheepishly and backed away from the elf maiden's leg. She waggled her finger reproachfully and returned her attention to the divining rod in her hand.

"They left the road," she told Corwin. "As you suspected."

"Let's go back to the tavern and buy our supplies," the paladin said. "We should leave at dawn."

Alisia tucked her rod into her quiver. "Agreed."

-

Athmek, Celesta Brumble's captor, unwrapped his mask from his head while in the privacy of his tent. All the privacy allowed by the captive halfling in the cage, that is. His head and face bore the shape of his long-dead human ancestors...or at least he had claimed to be descended from humans. He was not human, however, as revealed by his dusky gray skin and veiled eyes. Like all inhabitants of the City of Shade—he had once explained to Celesta—Athmek was a shade. No matter what their ancestors' race of origin, the people in Athmek's home city were now all shades. Thus, no one in the City of Shade could handle the Hearts of Knowledge. Ironic, since he'd said the Hearts of Knowledge had been created millennia ago by the powerful mages of Netheril, the long-dead empire of which the City of Shade had once been a part.

The mirror before him, a relic from Shade, shimmered as Athmek placed his palm over one of the knobs on the frame. The visage of a human, eyes dulled by ale, appeared on the scrying mirror.

The human's drunken eyes shot wide, apparently in surprise to Athmek's appearance. "You told me to contact you if anyone shows interest in your party."

"Indeed I did," Athmek said. "Report."

"They number six. A human, an elf, a halfling, a dwarf, a gnome, and a half-orc mongrel."

"That would be the mix of races that Candlekeep would send to recover the Hearts," Athmek murmured.

"I observed their activities. The elf has this stick that she used to find your trail. It looks like some kind of magic."

"Indeed. You have done well."

"You'll give me the magic words that will remove the glyph on the box of gold you left me now, right?"

"Exactly," Athmek said. "The words you want are _ethra arunica_."

"Many thanks, milord."

Athmek took his palm off the knob, and the human's image faded, replaced by the shade's own reflection. He looked toward Celesta's cage.

"Greed is a useful tool, little one," he said. "That poor soul is going to use the words I gave him to open the box, thinking he'll receive riches beyond his imagination. All he'll do is invoke a fireball spell that will consume him and all around him."

"But...but he did as you asked," Celesta whimpered.

"Believe me, I did what I did not because I enjoy cruelty. I'm not like Territ and the others. I just can't leave behind anyone who can identify me. The restoration of Netheril to its former glory is too important."

"What happens when you no longer need me to carry this gem that you say only halflings can carry?"

Athmek didn't answer her.

His non-answer, however, told her that her life would be forfeit as soon as he was done with her. "Will you at least call the monster from my village?" she asked.

The monster in question was a manticore he'd summoned to hold Celesta's home village hostage.

"When the ritual of binding is complete," Athmek said, "I will recall the beast."

"I have your word?" Celesta wasn't confident his word meant anything, but she had to ask.

"You have my word," Athmek said. "As for now, I think I should conjure up something for my pursuers."


	5. 5

**5**

Maintaining his equipment every day provided a twofold purpose for Corwin. Aside from the obvious—it kept his sword and armor in top condition—the activity gave him the time to reflect. The same with brushing down Katla. The white mare grazed in contentment as Corwin stroked the brush along her flanks.

The camp was quiet. Rorin quietly prayed to Moradin as Glannor played a reverent tune on his lute. Mood music, he'd explained. Alisia tended to her own horse, brushing her roan mare. Kaegan turned a spit over a fire, roasting a pair of rabbits, as Albrec watched him warily from across the flickering glow of the flames.

Finally, Kaegan said, "Albrec, are you going to continue to stare?"

"I'm only watching you to ensure you don't put anything harmful in the food," the halfling said.

The rest of the party paused their activities at Albrec's accusation. Corwin put an arm gently across Katla's back to silently watch the proceedings, his fingers stroking her hide.

"You think I would actually poison everyone's supper?" the half-orc said.

"Yes," Albrec said.

"What have I done to earn your suspicion?"

"You're an orc."

"Half-orc."

"You still have orcish blood."

"Stay yer tongue, me boy," Rorin said. "Yon Kaegan was raised by the monks of Candlekeep, not the savage orcish tribes."

"Doesn't matter," Albrec said. "Orc blood is orc blood. Even a drop in one's veins is enough to corrupt him to the evils and savagery of the orcish race. There is no redemption."

"That is a harsh thing to say," Alisia said, moving from her horse to the light of the campfire.

"Orcs are the traditional enemies of dwarvenkind," Rorin said. "If anyone should have reason to distrust an orc, 'tis I. I hold no grudge against Kaegan."

"Good for you," Albrec said. "I do hold a grudge against any orc and their kin."

"Why the hatred?" the elf asked.

Albrec looked up into Alisia's face, his gaze softening. The halfling was still smitten by her.

"I was raised in Waterdeep as an orphan because of orcs," Albrec said. "My parents were traders, and on one trade run from the village of my birth to Waterdeep the caravan was attacked by a band of orcs. They killed almost everyone in the caravan. I survived the slaughter because I was but a tot hidden in my parents' cart. I would have been discovered had not a troop of Waterdhavian soldiers interrupted them. Even though I was a child when it happened, I still have the images of my unarmed parents pleading for their lives as the orcs tortured them merely for their depraved pleasure before killing them."

"Albrec learned to use the blade," Glannor said, "so his blood debt could be paid."

"You're not the only one touched by the savagery of orcs, Albrec," Kaegan said. "My own conception is a testament to their cruelty. My mother was riding to Candlekeep from Baldur's Gate when the party she was with were attacked. The men in the party, including my mother's husband, were all slain. The women were ravished."

Alisia looked at Corwin, and his neck and ears warmed under her gaze. "Let Corwin assuage your concerns," she said.

"That's right," Albrec said. "Do your paladin thing on Kaegan."

Corwin frowned. "I had already done my 'paladin thing,' as you call it, back in Candlekeep. On all of you. The tenets of my faith and my ethos as a paladin prevent me from allying with those who may be inherently evil or may harbor the desire to commit acts of malice."

"And Kaegan passed?"

"I'm here with him, aren't I?" Corwin resumed brushing Katla. "I fear we're not making good time. We should break camp and get moving before the sun rises."

"We're making decent time," Albrec said.

"But not good enough. We should catch them before they get to their destination and perform the wizard's ritual over the gems."

"The road we're on takes us into the Western Heartlands," Alisia said. "We'll leave Amn sometime tomorrow."

"Why the long journey in the first place?" Albrec said. "Why didn't the wizard just gate the thieves into Candlekeep from the place where he intends to perform the ritual?"

"He probably realized the wizards at Candlekeep could track the point of origin of the gate," Rorin said. "He needed to recruit the thieves, too. He probably sought a cosmopolitan place that had mercenaries for hire from all six of the races he needed and was located far from where he wanted to perform the ritual. Amn probably met his requirements."

"It's all speculation of course," Corwin said, "but Rorin's conjecture is sound."

"Could the Zhentarim be involved?" Alisia suggested.

"The Zhentarim are far reaching in their schemes," the paladin said, "but Zhentil Keep is near the Dalelands. The trail would have had to turn northeast several leagues past for a more direct route."

A howl pierced the night, and all in the group fell silent. Alisia moved toward her horse.

"Wolves," Albrec remarked.

"Not wolves," Alisia said. "Worse."

"Gnolls?" Corwin asked, stooping to pick up his sheathed sword.

"Yes."

"How can you tell?" the halfling questioned.

"I recognize the howl of gnolls," the elven ranger said.

"It's advisable not to question a ranger's ear for the sounds of the wilderness," the paladin said.

"They probably smell our campfire and the meat roasting over it," Alisia said.

The elf grabbed her bow and slung her quiver over her shoulder. Corwin freed his blade from its scabbard with a steely ring. The others gathered their weapons and formed a line with Corwin and Alisia. Corwin closed his eyes and bowed his head, calling upon the power of Tyr. The god answered, and he sensed the rabble of evil gnolls approaching through the dense woods to the southeast.

Alisia drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it to her bow. She drew back on the string.

She let the arrow fly as soon as a gnoll showed its hyena-like head as it emerged from the trees. The shaft flew true, plunging deep into the creature's throat. It squealed and toppled back, and Alisia quickly launched another arrow. A second gnoll tumbled to the ground beside its slain fellow.

Twelve more gnolls emerged from the woods, clutching a variety of well-worn weaponry. Corwin gripped his great sword in both hands and charged. An arrow flew past his head and struck a gnoll in the eye. The paladin raised his sword to parry a gnoll's overhead blow. He deflected the double-bladed axe stroke and used the momentum to whirl around, delivering a lateral stroke across the gnoll's belly. The creature toppled over, and Corwin cleaved the head off a maul-wielding gnoll.

He turned in time to see Albrec, a short sword in each hand, thrust both blades through a gnoll's gut. The halfling pulled the swords free and parried a halberd.

Corwin advanced to help the halfling, but Albrec ducked between the halberd-wielding gnoll's legs and stood up behind it. The halfling delivered two rapid strokes against the back of gnoll's legs. The creature slumped to its knees, and Albrec thrust a sword between the gnoll's shoulder blades.

Corwin redirected his charge to intercept a gnoll advancing on Alisia. The elf fired an arrow almost point blank, and the shaft struck the gnoll in the shoulder. She drew her sword, using her bow to parry the gnoll's battleaxe. She hacked into the gnoll's rib cage as the creature clubbed the side of her head with a fist, knocking her off her feet.. Corwin clove the injured gnoll's head clean off with his great sword.

Rorin and Kaegan, having dispatched a number of gnolls themselves, engaged the last one standing. Kaegan, unarmed, hurled the gnoll over his shoulder and laid it out flat on its back. Rorin clobbered the gnoll's head with his hammer, and the creature lay still.

Corwin knelt beside Alisia and saw the blood trickling from her hairline. He cradled her gently in his arms, effortlessly lifting her off the ground. When her eyelids fluttered open, Corwin breathed easier. She put a hand to her wound and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Marauders," Rorin said, kicking the head of the gnoll he had just slain.

"Did the wizard send them?" Albrec asked.

"I doubt it," Corwin said. "They were drawn to the smell of our cooking food. Encounters like this aren't uncommon in the long stretches between civilized lands."

"The wizard shouldn't even know about us," Kaegan said.

"The wizard has to realize that Candlekeep would send a party of our type after him," Alisia said.

Corwin carried Alisia to the side of the fire and set her down. He hustled to his saddle and took some salves and poultices from his saddlebags. He returned to Alisia's side and sat beside her. She watched him as he applied a salve to the cut on her forehead.

"You are gentle," she said, "for a human."

He allowed a smile. "I learned more than swordcraft from my mentor."

Corwin reached for his saddlebag to grab another type of salve, and he caught Albrec staring at him. The halfling's arms were folded across his chest, and his face was twisted in a scowl. Thinking nothing of Albrec's posture, the paladin continued his ministrations.

"Leave this on overnight," Corwin explained. "By morn the cut should be gone."

"My thanks," Alisia said, smiling.

"Why didn't you just do your paladin thing?" Albrec asked.

"And what 'paladin thing' would that be?" Corwin said.

"Your healing power."

"He means your laying on of hands," Kaegan said, which earned a glare from Albrec.

"I can only do that once a day," Corwin said. "That power is best saved for grievous wounds."

"Right," Albrec said. "Why use that power to instantly heal her when you can apply your ointments, which would give you more time to woo the lady elf."

"Watch yer tongue, boy," Rorin said. "Yon Corwin be a paladin."

"He's still a man," Albrec said. "He's still prone to a man's inclination to appreciate the beauty of a woman."

"The halfling's jealous," Kaegan said.

"Silence, half-breed," Albrec snapped.

"Enough," Corwin said. "Our strife amongst ourselves serves no purpose but to hinder our mission."

"Agreed," Rorin said.

-

"What is this place?" Celesta asked.

"It is called the Battle of the Bones," Territ said. "Three centuries past, it was the site of a great battle. A horde of orcs and goblins were confronted by a host of humans, elves, and dwarves marching under the banners of Tyr, Corellan, and Moradin. The do-gooder gods and their followers prevailed, but at great cost in lives and landscape. So grave was the desolation that even now only the undead inhabit this place."

"Then why did we stop?"

Athmek strode into view from the front of the wagon. "Encircle me and link arms," he commanded.

The group hesitated, exchanged glances.

"Do it now," Athmek growled.

Celesta felt herself lifted off the ground as Territ and Rizzan linked their arms through hers. Kraat, Thak, and Fangor completed the circle around the shade wizard. Athmek closed his eyes and began reciting a chant in archaic verse.

The Topaz of Halflingkind, hanging around Celesta's neck, thrummed with power, levitating on its chain, threatening to jump off her. The other Hearts of Knowledge likewise suspended in midair, anchored by their chains around their respective necks. They seemed to want to converge on Athmek.

The wizard completed his incantation, and the Hearts of Knowledge dropped to hang once again from their chains.

"What in the hells was that?" Territ demanded.

Athmek left the confines of the circle, breaking Thak's link with Fangor as he did. As the rest of those forming the circle broke their links with one another, Celesta dropped to the ground. She picked herself up and watched in horror as the ground shifted around them.

Zombies by the score rose from the ashen soil and turned to face Athmek as if awaiting his command.

"Our pursuers will meet their doom here," the wizard said.


	6. 6

**6**

Since the battle with the gnolls, Corwin and Alisia had become ever friendlier with one another, riding together on the trail, much to Albrec's chagrin. Albrec rode behind them on Glannor's left, and Rorin rode on Glannor's right. Kaegan brought up the rear.

The human and the elf had also become quite the taskmasters, driving the party well into each night and awakening them each morning before sunrise. Albrec understood the necessity for closing on the enemy party before the villains arrived at their destination, but he hadn't had a full night's sleep since...

"How long has it been since we killed those gnolls?" the halfling asked.

"Nearly three tendays," Rorin said.

"That would put us at almost nine tendays since departing Candlekeep."

"Indeed."

"The human runs us to exhaustion."

"Don't put all the blame on Corwin now. Alisia is as insistent as he that we keep to this pace."

"What does an elf see in a big, clumsy human anyway?"

"Apparently a lot," Rorin said, "judging by the numbers of half-elves."

"And what would an elf see," Glannor said, "in a halfling wee?"

"Shut up," Albrec murmured.

As they traveled further into the afternoon, the rolling green hills slowly gave way to an ashen white landscape barren any growth save a few scattered stunted trees. Alongside the road, ancient bones protruding from the chalky soil seemed to outnumber the rocks and stones one would normally see. Albrec shivered, the hair on the back of his neck prickling.

Corwin took his sheathed sword off his back and hung it from the pommel of his saddle, one hand resting on the hilt. Alisia, following his lead, unlimbered her bow. She nocked an arrow, but didn't draw back on the string.

"This place isn't right," Albrec said.

Rorin fingered the holy symbol of Moradin hanging from his neck. "This, my boy, is the ancient battlefield we now call the Battle of the Bones. The undead outnumber the living here."

"I don't see anything."

"And you probably won't until too late. Skeletons and zombies have been known to rise up out of the ground."

"Rising from graves where they'd been buried centuries ago," Kaegan said.

"I outgrew ghost stories years ago," Albrec scoffed.

"Who's talking ghosts?" Rorin said. "Though some of them may inhabit the Battle of the Bones. No one is certain, as not many living creatures come here anymore."

Albrec, despite his facade, was uneasy in the still air. Not even a light breeze moved across the dead ground. He twisted the leather reins around his knuckles.

"This land of blight," Glannor said. "The feeling isn't right."

Corwin's back stiffened, and his grip tightened around the haft of his sword. Seeing this, Alisia drew back slightly on her bowstring.

"You sense something?" she asked.

He nodded. With a steely slither, he slowly pulled his sword free of its scabbard. He laid the great blade across his lap, the fingers of his right hand curled around the leather-wrapped hilt.

Rorin drew his warhammer and propped it across his shoulder.

The companions continued to ride unchallenged.

Albrec wondered if the paladin might be paranoid. He could understand the human's apprehension; he himself would feel better to have this land at his back. However, he maintained an air of nonchalance for the elf maiden's benefit.

"The paladin seems frightened," Albrec said to Glannor, loud enough for all in the party to hear.

Alisia shot a glance back in his direction. The hard look in her eyes was not the effect he had desired.

Corwin suddenly yanked on his reins, guiding his mare to put himself on Alisia's right flank. Three figures emerged from behind a weather-worn boulder that lay about fifty feet off the path to the right. The human-sized forms were slightly hunched. Their putrid, mottled skin stretched tight across their skeletons. Their eyes burned hotly, glowing in the waning evening light.

Rorin readied his hammer. "Ghouls!"

Alisia drew her bowstring taut and released. The shaft sailed true, piercing one of the ghouls through the ribcage. The undead creature plucked the arrow from its chest and tossed it aside. It leveled its hot gaze at the elven ranger, even as fluid oozed from its wound.

Still gripping his hammer, Rorin held his holy symbol aloft. He spoke an invocation of undead turning.

The ghouls tipped their heads back and howled in anger and pain. Immediately thereafter, their skin dissolved from their skeletons, and their bones turned to powder.

Four more ghouls came out from behind the boulder, two on either side. A fifth ghoul clawed its way over the top.

Alisia unleashed another arrow, sending its point into the upper ghoul's brow. The undead creature fell back and disappeared behind the boulder.

Corwin, meanwhile, guided Katla toward the ghouls rounding the right side of the boulder. His great sword flashed in the reddening sun, and in two quick blows he cut the heads from both foes.

"Corwin!" Alisia warned.

The ghoul that the ranger had shot appeared from behind the boulder, her arrow still stuck in its forehead. It reached out and clawed at Corwin's side. His armor deflected most of the blow, but Albrec still saw red staining his steel breastplate.

Alisia launched another arrow at the ghoul, burying the shaft in its rib cage.

Rorin and Kaegan took the ghouls coming around the left side of the boulder. Unwilling to touch the undead with his hands or feet, Kaegan twirled a quarterstaff expertly. He quickly landed blows against one of the ghouls. Rorin slammed his hammer into the head of his adversary, crushing the skull with a wet squish.

Albrec and Glannor urged their ponies to charge down the last ghoul, Arisia's arrows still jutting from its body. Before they closed half the distance, however, the ground churned in front of them. Ranks of skeletons emerged from the ashen soil, clutching ancient weapons in their bony hands. Albrec reined his pony to a halt and leaned back in his saddle to avoid the swing of a rusted halberd.

The halfling rolled off his saddle and drew both his swords. He hacked at the legs of the nearest skeleton, shattering its thigh bones and toppling it over. As soon as it hit the dirt, its bones scattered.

Glannor parried an axe stroke with his sword and counterattacked. His steel blade met oaken haft. Another skeleton pulled him off his saddle, and the gnome bard's sword skittered out of his grasp when he landed hard.

Both their mounts now fleeing in fright, the halfling and the gnome found themselves surrounded by the skeletal undead. Albrec waded through the skeletons on foot as he moved toward Glannor. His twin swords flashed with each blow, hacking at the animated skinless bones.

An arrow struck a skeleton in the skull, carrying the grinning head off its body. The headless skeleton fell apart.

Albrec was hard pressed now, his forward movement bogged by the sheer numbers of skeletons between him and Glannor. The bard lay helpless as a skeleton hefted a battleaxe to cleave his living flesh.

The blade of a great sword descended, cleaving the axe-wielding skeleton from skull to pelvic bone. Corwin, on foot, swiftly picked Glannor off the ground and set the gnome on his feet. Katla's hooves crushed another pair of skeletons before they could harm either Corwin or Glannor. Albrec and Corwin stood with their backs to the disarmed Glannor, protecting him with their bodies as their swords clove bone. To Albrec's right, he could see Rorin and Kaegan engage the skeletons with hammer and staff. Alisia drew her sword to receive the contingent of skeletons that charged her position on the trail. She struck foes with her long blade and parried the skeletons' attacks with her bow, all the while nimbly guiding her horse in evasive maneuvers.

Rorin shattered the last skeleton's head with his hammer, and the battle with the ghouls and skeletons was suddenly over. The companions, wary, hesitated to move right away.

Albrec picked up Glannor's dropped sword and handed it over. He and the gnome waited pensively near the tall human. Rorin and Kaegan, still on horseback, trotted to the path and joined Alisia.

The halfling felt a trickle of sweat rolled down his nose. His palms were clammy as he gripped his swords. He dared not speak. He'd never fought undead before, and it was more than a little unnerving.

"This isn't right," Glannor said. "The undead only come out at night."

"Tell them that," Albrec said, motioning to a pile of bones with the tip of a sword.

"It's certain undead that comes out only at night," Corwin said. "Though, to be honest, I thought ghouls were one of those."

Rorin gazed skyward. "Twilight approaches."

Corwin grabbed Katla's reins. "Then it's best we not tarry."

"Agreed."

"We don't stop until we leave the Battle of the Bones."

"Not even to make camp?" Albrec asked.

The paladin swung himself up onto his saddle. "Unless you wish to sleep in a land ruled by the undead."

"No stopping. I'm with you."

Albrec and Glannor recovered their mounts and climbed into the saddles. With the companions gathered on the trail, they resumed their journey at a brisk pace. Their weapons were still bared.

Alisia noted the rent on the left side of the paladin's breastplate and the swath of crimson staining it. "Corwin, you're injured."

Corwin glanced down at his side. "A flesh wound."

"What hit you?"

"One of the ghouls."

"Corwin, the ghouls are carrion eaters. Your wound will fester if you don't have it tended."

"It won't fester. The blessing that Tyr bestows upon his paladins protects me from infections."

"At least bandage it so you don't bleed your strength."

"Or do your paladin thing," Albrec said, wiggling the fingers on one hand.

"I can lay on hands once per day. It's best I save that power for injuries more grievous than mine."

Rorin moved to ride beside the paladin. "Stubborn human. And everyone thought my kin were obstinate."

The cleric removed his gauntlets and quietly muttered a prayer. He touched Corwin's torn breastplate, and his healing spell sank into the human's flesh even through the metal.

"There," Rorin said. "The wound is gone."

Corwin lifted an arm, stretching the once-wounded side of his torso. "Feels good."

As the sun dipped further toward the horizon, the shadows around them stretched. Darkness slowly descended upon them, encasing them in its murkiness. Albrec wiped at the sweat beading his brow, his fingers cramping from his tight hold on his two swords. The still air offered no comfort to its dry heat.

The companions came around a bend that curved around groves of long-dead trees. They stopped short as they rounded the bend. Arrayed across the trail before them were ranks upon ranks of decaying corpses standing upright. What was left of their faces were blank, unseeing, yet the figures shuffled toward the travelers.

Albrec knew what they were.

Zombies. Dozens of them.


	7. 7

**7**

As the zombies ambled toward the party, the companions formed up into a single rank. Corwin glanced to either side of him, at Alisia and Rorin. As his eyes met the dwarf's, he nodded. Rorin nodded in response.

The paladin and the cleric edged their horses two paces in front of the others.

"What are they doing?" Albrec asked.

"Invoking the power of their gods," Glannor said, "to improve our odds."

The human paladin and dwarven cleric both held their respective holy symbols aloft, just as Rorin had done earlier with the ghouls. Their prayers filled the still twilight.

The zombies continued to shuffled toward them.

Corwin and Rorin completed their prayers at the same time. Tyr and Moradin both answered their sons' pleas. The two holy men were powerful enough in summoning their gods' turning power that the zombies did not merely flee. Most of the putrefying undead dissolved in mid-step as the combined holy power from the two men struck them down; Rorin's affected more zombies than Corwin's as was expected of a cleric over a paladin.

"Still a lot of zombies there," Albrec complained.

"But the odds are better," Kaegan said, testing his staff.

Alisia fired an arrow into the rib cage of one of the remaining zombies. The undead ignored the plunging shaft as it continued its advance. She fired another arrow into it, to no apparent effect.

"Get behind us," Corwin said. "Stay close on our backs."

"What do you intend to do?" Alisia asked.

"We can outrun the zombies. We need not fight them all."

"We just need to get through them," Rorin added.

Alisia drew her sword. "I'm ready."

Corwin, Alisia, and Rorin led the way and charged into the mass of zombies, swords and hammer cutting and bashing down the putrid walking corpses. The steeds' hooves crushed shambling zombies underfoot. Zombies flailed at the trio and their mounts with balled fists, but the riders continued unhindered. Albrec, Glannor, and Kaegan followed the others closely, their weapons striking out at the zombies that attempted to close the gap opened by the leading trio.

They were almost clear of the zombies, and Corwin thanked Tyr even as his great sword clove through the necks of two zombies. They would fight through the slow moving undead and leave them at their backs.

A zombie bashed Alisia'a horse in the foreleg, and the mount squealed as it tumbled forward. Alisia catapulted off her saddle and landed on her back on the ashen soil. Her sword and her bow left her grips from the jarring impact. The frightened horse scrambled to its feet and galloped away from the zombies.

Corwin leaped off his saddle. "Katla, stay with he others," he commanded as he sprinted toward the fallen elf.

The mare neighed her displeasure, but she did as bidden. She battered her way through zombies with Rorin at her side.

Albrec attempted to veer off the trail to help, but Glannor grabbed his reins and kept the halfling with the rest of the party.

Corwin cut a path through the zombies even as he felt their fists striking his armor plates. Ahead of him, the elven ranger rolled to her side to grab her sword. As a zombie prepared to bash in her skull with a powerful fist, she grabbed the hilt and flipped onto her back. Her blade swung up and through the zombie's neck. The headless corpse fell on top of her.

Corwin reached her and stood over her. He lashed out with his sword, cutting through putrefying flesh. Disgusting drops of rotting ichor splashed across his face and armor with each successful strike.

With both bow and sword now in hand, Alisia rose to her feet and stood with her back braced against his.

"Are the others free and clear?" she asked.

Corwin, taller than the elf, could see over the zombies' heads. "They are. Katla is retrieving your fleeing horse as we speak."

"Good." She grunted as she cut down a zombie. "I'd hate to lose her. I've had her since she was a foal."

Corwin cut a zombie in twain. "What's her name?"

"Moonflower."

"Katla will watch after her until we can get clear of these zombies."

"We're surrounded, aren't we."

"We are."

Corwin noticed a flash of light from the direction of the rest of the party. He chanced a quick look in time to see a flurry of magical missiles flying from Glannor's fingers. The bolts slammed into several zombies and cut them down. Glannor repeated the spell, slashing through even more of the undead.

"He's clearing a path for us," Corwin said, cutting a zombie's arm off. He reversed the stroke to cleave the zombie in half. "Let's move."

The human and the elf inched toward the gap created by the bard's spells, even as the zombies moved around to close it off. Their blades opened the path, and once clear of the zombies they easily outran the shambling corpses. They ran straight for their waiting mounts, both standing side-by-side with Moonflower's reins held in Katla's teeth.

Corwin thrust his sword into the ground near Alisia's horse and effortlessly lifted the ranger into her saddle. Grabbing his sword, he swung himself up onto Katla's saddled back.

Corwin nodded toward Glannor. "Thank you."

"You can rest assured, my spell weaving lacks the power of a wizard," Glannor said. "I can only attest, that I did my best."

"It was enough," Alisia said, placing a palm on the bard's cheek.

"I may even put up with your incessant rhyming," Rorin said with a grin.

"Let's move," Corwin urged. "The zombies are following."

The riders kicked their mounts into a gallop. It didn't take long to outdistance the zombies, and they slowed to a trot when the undead were out of sight behind them.

"No wonder nobody travels through the Battle of the Bones," Albrec said. "With welcoming committees like those, who would want to visit?"

"The zombies were too concentrated to be a normal encounter, even in the Battle of the Bones," Kaegan said.

"You're thinking magic?" Corwin asked.

"Aye. Powerful magic."

"The wizard who stole the Hearts of Knowledge," Alisia said. "He summoned them to wait for us."

"The ghouls and skeletons as well," Corwin said. "Be alert, everyone. There may be more undead waiting for us before we can ride clear of the Battle of the Bones."

"And what lies beyond the Battle of the Bones?" Albrec asked.

"In the direction we're heading," Alisia said, "we'll enter Anauroch Desert."

"A desert? We go from one barren land to another?"

"At least we won't have to worry about the undead there," Rorin said.

"Only living desert monsters," Kaegan said.

"What kind of living desert monsters?" Albrec asked.

"Giant scorpions, for one."

"Then there are the two-legged threats," Rorin said. "Desert bandits."

"Don't forget thirst," Kaegan added. "It may be days before we can find an oasis where there'd be water to replenish our stores."

"I'm sorry I asked," Albrec mumbled.

Alisia took a rolled map from her saddlebag. "I suggest we seek the nearest oasis once we enter the desert," she said. "We need rest."

"The wizard and his band may already be at their destination," Corwin said.

"We'll be of no use if we're too tired to fight them, Corwin. We've ridden almost non-stop since entering the Battle of the Bones. The Hill Elders of Evereska gave me this map, and it has the locations of several oases in the Anauroch Desert marked. There is one about a half a day's ride into the desert, and it wouldn't be too far off our path."

"All right, I see your point. You're correct, we would do our cause no good by going into battle against the wizard and his minions while we're completely exhausted."

The companions rode through the rest of the night and most of next morning without incident, and they breathed a little easier when they left the Battle of the Bones behind them. Eventually, however, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by rolling sand dunes. They saw no other living thing around but themselves and their mounts. Even the Battle of the Bones had a few stunted trees, but this was complete desolation.

Anauroch Desert.

-

When the wagon bounced to a halt, Celesta Brumble scooted to the back of her cage. The caravan's stopping was usually followed thereafter with suggestive taunts from that despicable human, Territ Fetterlis. Athmek and the drow, Rizzen Pharn, entered the wagon and slid the cage out. They deposited it on the soft, grassy ground. Athmek unlocked the cage.

"Come on out, little one," the shade said.

Celesta hesitantly exited the cage and peered around her. She thought they were in the desert, but all around her were palm trees and other vegetation. Nearby, glistening in the sun high overhead, stood a small pool of water fed by a cascade rolling down an outcropping of slate. Beside the pool, a manmade edifice of granite rose high overhead, dominating the clearing within which the caravan had stopped. Underneath the vines and other foliage that covered the granite walls, the building looked like it had once been an important place. Its ornate facade was barely visible under the vegetation that had claimed it.

"What is this place?" asked the duergar, Thak metKoth.

"It is known today as the Oasis of Ahman," Athmek said. "Thousands of years ago, it was a city in the Netheril Empire called Thamek. This temple to our ancient gods is all that remains of a once-proud city. No one knows why oases exist in the desert, but this oasis exists because of the residual magic emanating from the temple."

"Looks like the nature gods have claimed the temple for themselves," Territ remarked, fingering the leaf of a vine climbing the wall near the temple's stone double doors.

"The weak nature gods have claimed nothing," Athmek snapped.

"Is this finally our destination?" asked the deep gnome, Kraat. "Are we finally to be rid of these stones?"

"We are in the waning moon," Athmek said.

Territ scowled. "So?"

"The doors of the temple were sealed shut for all eternity when the ancient priests realized Netheril was falling. Nothing can open the doors but a Netheril rite of ceremony. At the full moon, and only the full moon, I must use the Hearts of Knowledge to commence the rite."

"So we wait here until the full moon," Territ grumbled. "Remember, we _are_ being followed."

"Don't concern yourself with the company sent by Candlekeep. We are well ahead of them."

"And if they should arrive before the full moon?" Rizzen asked.

"Let them come," the orc, Fangor, grunted. "I want a good, bloody fight."

"You will get it," Athmek said. "And Territ, my friend, one of my contacts has given me the composition of the Candlekeep company."

"Yeah?" the human growled.

"There is a paladin among them."

Territ grinned evilly, and Celesta had to look away. Everyone in the caravan knew that Territ Fetterlis found few things more enjoyable than killing paladins.

The human rubbed his palms together. "I hope they do come before the full moon. The paladin's blood will stain my blade."

"How many paladins have you killed so far, Territ?" Rizzan asked.

"Fourteen. This one coming will make it fifteen."

"Only if they come before the full moon," Athmek said. "Once the moon is full and we complete the rite, we must go inside the temple and retrieve an important artifact."

"A treasure?" Fangor asked.

"A holy relic from old Netheril," Athmek said. "We need that artifact for our next destination after this."

"Where is that?" Territ asked.

"You need not know yet. You will, however, need to carry the Hearts of Knowledge that far. Once we arrive at our final destination, where lies an ancient ward, you will no longer need to carry the Hearts."

"So, this relic we're retrieving here," Rizzan said, "and the stones we carry are keys to this ward?"

"In a sense," Athmek said.

"What does the ward protect?" Kraat asked.

"Hopefully a means to help me restore the Netheril Empire to its former glory. And then my countrymen and I can set about bringing the rest of Faerun under Netheril's dominion." Athmek looked at his companions. "Netheril rewards those who help her, gentlemen. We reward our allies well."

"I like generous rewards," Territ said. "Almost as much as I like having a paladin's throat at my blade."

Celesta gripped the Topaz of Halflingkind, feeling its warmth throbbing through her palm. As much as she wanted to run to escape these vile men—particularly the sadistic Territ and Rizzan—she knew she would not get far. Even if she did evade her companions, they were in an oasis. A halfling such as herself would not fare well alone in the expanse of the Anauroch Desert.

If she took her own life, the evil party would not have a halfling to carry the Topaz to complete their wicked plans. However, it had been made clear by Athmek that if she did take such drastic measures, her village would be utterly destroyed. After slaughtering her village, the manticore under Athmek's power would destroy every surrounding halfling village. Hundreds of halflings would die.

But would the sacrifice of herself and hundreds of halflings be worth the prevention of a scheme to rule the millions of people across Faerun under the dominion of Athmek and his Netheril Empire? Perhaps, but it wouldn't take Athmek much effort to find another halfling to carry the Topaz. His scheme would only be delayed, not stopped.

The only hope lay in the group from Candlekeep who even now tracked them.


	8. 8

**8**

The transition from desert to oasis was abrupt. A sanctuary of lush vegetation amidst the harsh blazing sands. The companions moved nonstop across the sands, stopping to rest only within the oases that they came across. As it turned out, they didn't need to divert off their path to reach these places of respite. The thieves themselves traveled from oasis to oasis, and the company from Candlekeep only had to continue following their trail with Alisia's divining rod.

For over a tenday they traveled thus, stopping at three oases along the way. On the twelfth day since crossing into the Anauroch Desert, they came upon the largest oasis they had seen thus far. Still an island of life surrounded by barren desert, it dominated most of the horizon ahead.

The companions were still deep inside the Anauroch, so that was indeed an oasis ahead. It had even acquired a name. According to Alisia's map, it was called Ahman. Her divining rod led directly into the swath of green. They camped just inside the edge of the oasis—without plunging too far in—at Alisia's insistence, and Corwin agreed. They worked quickly to remove their saddles from their tired mounts. Albrec was just glad to have some shade from the burning sun.

The halfling set his saddle on the ground and began brushing his pony down. As he worked, he watched Alisia. With her saddle set aside, the elven ranger walked around the camp her divining rod loosely in her hands.

She looked up and saw Corwin unbuckle the straps that held his armor in place. She paused to watch him as he removed each piece separately, laying the pieces beside his saddle. Albrec still could not understand the elf maiden's fascination with the big, clumsy human.

Katla trotted up and nudged Corwin's side as he was bent over to unstrap his greaves. Off balance, he pitched over and fell on his side. Katla neighed in amusement.

"You find that funny, do you?" Corwin said, grabbing Katla's bit and tackle to help lift himself back to his feet.

Alisia's singsong peel of laughter graced the camp. The paladin looked toward the ranger.

"You too?" he said.

She only smiled at him.

He motioned to the artifact in Alisia's hand. "Do you have their direction yet?"

She shook her head, dropping her gaze to the rod in her hands. "It's strange. It's not giving a direction."

"What's it doing?"

"It's acting as if it's trying to reacquire the thieves' spore, but it can't. It lost track of them as soon as we entered the oasis..." She looked up sharply from the rod to the paladin.

Corwin wordlessly closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

His eyes snapped open. "Evil."

"Where?"

"All around us. This oasis must be the product of black magic."

"Do you think this is the thieves' destination? Where they wanted to take the Hearts of Knowledge?"

Corwin beckoned Kaegan. The half-orc monk set down the stack of kindling he'd gathered and walked over.

"Did Ulraunt or your grandfather tell you anything about the Hearts of Knowledge?" the paladin asked.

"Only what they told you," Kaegan said.

"You're a member of the Avowed, Kaegan. Did you overhear anything that may have been discussed in or near your presence?"

"I'm sorry, Corwin. If Ulraunt didn't want anyone to overhear his conversations, there was no overhearing his conversations."

"Anauroch was not always barren," Glannor said. "Only since the Netheril had fallen."

"That was a poor rhyme," Albrec remarked.

Glannor shrugged.

"The Netheril?" Alisia said. "Who are the Netheril?"

"An ancient empire of legends," Corwin said. "It's said they had become so dark and evil that the entire empire was swallowed up into the Plane of Shadows. Fairy tales."

"Not a legend, I insist," Glannor said. "The Netheril Empire did exist."

"The elders of Evereska told you nothing of Anauroch when they sent you on this mission?" Rorin questioned.

"No," Alisia said.

"Since Anauroch is near Evereska, I would think you and your people would know it's history."

"We had no idea the thieves would come this way," the ranger said. "If we'd had the power of foresight, I would have gathered up all the information the elders may have on Anauroch."

"But we don't have foresight," Corwin said, "so there was no way you'd know to do that. What do we—those of us here—know about Anauroch aside from what we'd already discussed?"

Alisia gazed upward at the canopy of foliage above her. "Look at the trees."

The others looked upward. "What about them?" Corwin asked.

"They are not the date trees that we saw at the other oases. These are the trees you would see in any forest in northern Faerun."

"I'll take your word for it. To me, a tree is a tree."

"Why are these trees here? In the middle of a desert."

"Magic."

"Yes, and you sensed it, Corwin, when you sensed the evil around us."

"This is evil magic then," Rorin said. "I never pictured evil magic fostering such a growth of life."

"Not fostering that growth," Alisia said. "Preserving what was already here."

"Before Anauroch became a desert," Kaegan said. "The tales say that Anauroch was a lush land before it became a desert. Glannor just mentioned it. So this oasis may have been an important site within the Netheril Empire."

"Whatever it was, it is now a source of powerful magic," the elf said. "I feel it's no coincidence that the thieves came here."

"They had a head start of several tendays," Corwin said. "They would be long gone by now."

"Perhaps," Kaegan said. "However, if this was a destination of theirs, then we must find what they sought within this oasis. It may give us a further clue to their intentions."

"Or they may still be here," Alisia said. "The thieves needed the Hearts of Knowledge, presumably, to perform a magical rite. Many powerful rites require it to be a certain time of year to perform—phases of the moon, equinoxes, solstices."

"Last night was the height of the full moon," Corwin said.

"Then we must find the center of the oasis."

"Why the center?" Albrec asked.

"A magical effect radiates outward from its source. The oasis is the effect."

"So the source of the magic would be at the center of the oasis."

"Yes."

"Let me put my armor on, and we'll go find the center," Corwin said.

"No," Alisia said. "I go alone. I intend to scout the location in stealth, so as not to alert anyone who may still be there."

"I don't intend to stay behind while you go into potential danger."

"My dear paladin, you are not trained or suited for stealth. This is the forest; it's my element as both an elf and a ranger."

"I can't let you go alone."

She laid a palm on his cheek. "I'll be fine."

"Because I'm going with you," Albrec said. "I'm a trained scout for the Waterdeep army. I know how to move quietly."

"Very well," Corwin relented. "I still don't like it, though. If you don't return by twilight, I'll come searching for you two."

The pair left the camp, plunging deeper into the thick foliage. Alisia was right, this oasis was different than the other oases they had seen since entering the desert. The vegetation was so lush that Albrec almost forgot they were deep in the Anauroch Desert.

"How far do you think we are from the center of the oasis?" he asked.

"From the size of the perimeter," Alisia said, "I would think a mile from our camp."

They walked in silence for a few paces.

"The human seems obsessed with you," Albrec said.

Alisia shot him a look. "I think the obsession comes from another, little one."

His neck burned. "I haven't met many halflings during my career in the Waterdhavian army. A lot of humans and elves and dwarves, but few halflings. Most of my kin prefer small villages in halfling shires to the big cities." He cast his gaze downward. "I get lonely."

Alisia laid a hand on his shoulder. "I understand."

A tingling sensation spread up his spine and into his neck at her touch. "Alisia—"

"Shh." She took her hand off his shoulder, much to his chagrin. "We must be quiet from here on."

Albrec nodded. They slowed their pace, careful to avoid jostling any vegetation or stepping on fallen debris. Alisia disappeared from his sight more than once as they maneuvered around wide tree trunks or thick underbrush.

The foliage thinned out, indicating they were nearing either an edge of the oasis or a clearing. They had not traveled far enough to reach the other side, so they must be approaching the center where the source of the magical effect was supposed to be located. Alisia now led the way, slowing her pace.

Alisia stopped and laid a palm on a tree trunk. Albrec moved to stand beside her.

"Do you smell that?" she whispered.

Albrec sniffed the air. Smoke.

"Aye," he whispered. "There's a fire nearby."

She inhaled deeply. "A cookfire."

He sniffed again. Indeed, he smelled the aroma of roasting meat. Someone had camped.

Alisia crept ahead, and Albrec followed in her footprints. She crouched low, to move closer to a thick hedge. He stood beside her, yet he still barely peeked over the hedge.

They hid at the edge of a clearing, at the center of which was a large granite structure covered in foliage. The stone door in the middle of the facade was wide open, its gaping maw leading into inky blackness.

A covered wagon stood in front of the building. A campfire crackled near the wagon, three spitted fowls roasting over the orange flames. The spit turned on its own, by magic, to ensure the meat was cooked evenly. Oddly, an empty cage that looked barely tall enough to accommodate someone of Albrec's height sat near the cage, its door open ajar.

"I think we found our thieves," Alisia whispered. "They must be inside the building. We should get the others."

"I'll wait here and observe them in case they come back out."

Alisia nodded and slipped away. Albrec watched her go, his gaze fixated on her supple legs. When she was out of sight, he turned his attention back to the empty camp.

As beautiful as Alisia was, she was out of his reach, in more ways than one. Elves rarely romance outside their own kind, and those who do invariably looked to humans. He could see why Alisia was drawn to Corwin. The paladin was an honorable man, almost to a fault. Albrec could see that Alisia was not typical to most elves or rangers he'd known in his stint in the Waterdhavian army. Particularly, her views on law and order most closely matched those of the paladin. Albrec himself was not above bending a law or two for the greater good of his mission, as long as his actions didn't hurt the undeserving.

An orange light appeared in the open door, and Albrec instinctively hunkered down behind the hedge. He moved enough of the brush to peer through the green. A human walked out of the stone building. He wore dull armor comprised of a cuirass, greaves, and arm braces fastened on over a suit of chain mail. His bared head revealed a shock of unruly brown hair, and he wore an eyepatch over his right eye. On his plated chest, hung from a silver chain, sparkled a large glowing sapphire. It had to be the Sapphire of Humankind.

He carried a small form under his arm, a wriggling figure in a plain homespun dress. Albrec's fists clenched around the hedge's branches as he saw the young halfling woman being bodily carried by that foul-looking human. She was beautiful beyond measure. Even more so, in his personal opinion, than Alisia. A pendant hung from her neck, a large glowing topaz suspended on a fine silver chain—the Topaz of Halflingkind.

It was obvious to Albrec that the halfling thief was not a willing accomplice. But where were the other thieves? Lagging behind in the building?

Albrec looked over his shoulder. Where were Alisia and the others?

He itched to swoop in and rescue the halfling woman. He wanted to take her away from the grubby human. He had to tell himself, though, that the wizard needed her to carry the Topaz of Halflingkind. The human would dare not harm her.

The human laid the halfling on her back on top of the cage. Even as she struggled, he held her down and hiked the skirt of her dress above her waist. He unbuckled his sword belt and let it drop to the ground. He reached down and started fumbling with the straps and buckles of his armor.

He might not harm her, but he was trying to ravish her.

Albrec steeled himself and crept out of hiding, careful not to make a sound. He inched closer, willing himself to keep his stealthy pace no matter his desire to rush in quickly. The human's armor proved difficult for him to remove with one hand, so Albrec had time.

Albrec drew his swords. At the steely slithers of the blades leaving their scabbards, the human craned his head around to look over his shoulder. His one good eye widened, and he let go of the halfling woman to grope for the sword he'd dropped on the ground. Albrec charged the last span of ground between himself and the human. The one-eyed warrior tugged his blade free and swung it in a wide arc.

Albrec parried the blow with his right sword, thrusting his left sword into the back of the human's thigh. The human grunted and dropped to one knee. Albrec sheathed his left sword and pulled the halfling woman off the cage. He pulled her toward the edge of the clearing.

She resisted.

"Come on!" Albrec urged.

"If I escape the wizard will kill not only my village, but all the halfling villages in my shire," she pleaded.

Albrec snatched the Topaz of Halflingking off her neck and looped the chain around his own. The woman screamed as the human swordsman closed on the two halflings with raised sword. Albrec pulled his second weapon from its scabbard and turned to face the advancing human.

An arrow shaft whistled above Albrec's head and plunged into the human's shoulder. No longer able to support the weight of his sword with his injury, the human dropped his weapon.

Albrec looked toward the edge of the clearing and was relieved to see Alisia standing there with her bow in hand. She'd already nocked another arrow.

She was not alone, however. Corwin, astride Katla, crashed through the underbrush out onto the clearing.

Alisia let her arrow fly. Midway through its flight, the shaft deflected off an unseen barrier and tumbled away.

The halfling woman screamed in terror. The one-eyed humans companions had come out of the structure, including the hooded wizard. The mage had erected a spell to protect him and his minions from arrow fire.

Albrec shoved the halfling woman toward the others. She did so reluctantly, but at least she fled. Corwin met the running halfling halfway and dismounted to heft the small woman onto Katla's back. With an order from the paladin, the mare galloped away with her new rider.

Albrec suddenly found himself faced by an orc with a long spear. The halfling batted the thrusting spear aside, then he whirled around and cut the orc's left hand off at the wrist. The orc cried out, stumbling away as he tried to stave off the blood pumping from his stump.

The one-eyed human had somehow recovered from his wounds, and before Albrec could react he had the human's sword thrust through his belly. He felt the cold steel emerge from his back.

Albrec slid off the blade and fell on his back, his arms and legs limp. Breathing became difficult, and blood bubbled out of his mouth.


	9. 9

**9**

Alisia's gut clenched when he saw Albrec run through on the one-eyed human's blade, and dampness welled in her eyes. Looking to Corwin, she recognized the determination in the human's narrowed blue eyes. As he stepped forward, Alisia grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Corwin, we have to run," she urged.

"I'm not leaving Albrec behind," he said.

"He's not going to die, Corwin. We have the halfling girl. The wizard needs Albrec to carry the Topaz now."

He freed himself from her grasp. His gaze bored into the man who stood over the fallen halfling. Albrec's blood still stained the man's blade.

"We're outnumbered," Alisia said.

The others of their party were back at their camp. When she had left Albrec to retrieve her companions, she'd run into Corwin partway there. Not surprisingly, he'd followed her and Albrec at a discreet distance, far enough back so as not to compromise their stealth and close enough so she wouldn't have to run all the way back to the camp for backup.

Thus, she and Corwin were alone.

"Alisia, get the halfling girl out of here," he said.

"She'll be safe with Katla," Alisia said. "I'm not leaving here without you."

"Neither one of us will leave here. Not with that wizard. We'll never outrun his spells. Go. I'll keep his attention on me to give you the chance to escape."

"Corwin..."

He kissed her brow. "I told Katla to listen for your whistle. She'll come pick you up. Take the halfling girl back to the camp and tell the others. I'll try to hold them here until you can escape."

She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his broad armored shoulders, but he moved out of her reach. The paladin advanced on the other human, blade ready.

"Corwin!" she cried.

The one-eyed human grinned. "Just so you know who your slayer is, paladin, I am Territ Fetterlis."

"You killed the paladin at the roadside tavern," Corwin said.

"You heard about that? He was the fourteenth paladin whose blood stains my blade. You'll be number fifteen."

"We shall see."

The duergar and the deep gnome bared their weapons and moved closer. Territ Fetterlis waved them back.

"He's mine!" the human snapped.

"We don't have time for this," the black-robed wizard said.

"Don't deny me my kill, Athmek!"

The two humans launched their attacks, and their blades met between them with a steely clang. They redirected and counterattacked, striking blade on blade.

Alisia gasped when she saw the wizard, Athmek, take a spell component from a pocket in his robes. The drow fingered the symbol of Vhaeraun around his neck. She fired off an arrow, hoping to interrupt their spell casting, but the shaft glanced off the wizard's protective magic.

She had one spell, part of her ranger training. She invoked the power of nature under the feet of the dark wizard and his drow companion. Writhing vines grew rapidly out of the ground and wrapped their tendrils around arms, legs, waists. The spell's area of effect also caught the duergar and the deep gnome, ensnaring them as well. The orc, wrapping the stump of his severed hand, had not been affected by Alisia's spell, but he wasn't much of a threat at the moment.

That left the human, Territ Fetterlis, engaged in combat with Corwin. As much as Alisia wanted to help Corwin, she knew he'd accepted a challenge. To involve herself would be a repudiation of his honor, and his honor was as much a part of him as his heart, mind, and flesh.

Territ's companions, however, were another matter. The drow cleric had already worked a hand free of the entangling vines, and he prepared a spell.

Alisia nocked an arrow and sighted down the length of the shaft. She hoped that the wizard's shield spell had either run its course or was dispelled when she trapped him in the entangling spell. Either way, the only chance she had to intervene on behalf of Corwin was her bow. She could not run fast enough to cut the dorw down with her sword, and if she even made the attempt she could be entangled in the snaking vines as well. She had no more spells available until her next meditation.

As the drow's gestures became more intricate, Alisia drew back on her bow. Allowing for wind and distance, she elevated the arrowhead slightly. She focused on the arrowhead, ignoring the distracting sounds of Corwin's fight with Territ.

She let the arrow fly. The drow cried out as the shaft plunged into his shoulder. His building spell energies dissipated.

The magical shield was down. Alisia fixed another arrow to her bowstring and drew down on the wizard. Athmek completed a spell of his own, and the entangling vines shriveled away.

He'd dispelled Alisia's spell. And just as quickly, he began casting another. It was a quick spell, completed before the ranger could unleash her arrow. In her haste, the shaft missed the wizard by a hairbreadth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Corwin and Territ were too involved in their own clash to acknowledge events around them. Completely oblivious to the danger, Corwin had circled around to expose his back to the wizard. Alisia tried to warn him as she nocked an arrow to her bowstring.

The words never left her throat before a greenish arrow flashed from Athmek's outstretched hand. The summoned arrow struck Corwin squarely in the back, sizzling with the pungent odor of acid. The paladin cried out and dropped to his knees. The acid continued to work, burning through his armor and into his flesh.

"You bastard!" Territ bellowed. "He was mine to kill!"

"Finish him," Athmek snapped.

Territ raised his sword, taking aim at Corwin's exposed neck. Alisia switched her target, sending an arrow into Territ's chest just below the exposed Sapphire of Humankind. The one-eyed human toppled backward.

Alisia moved toward Corwin. The paladin teetered on his knees, the acid working its way deeper into his body. He collapsed forward and lay still.

"No!" the elf cried.

Athmek began another spell. Alisia knew it would be directed at her. She sprinted for the edge of the woods even as a streak of flame left the wizard's finger. She dived into the foliage as the fireball exploded above her. She clenched her teeth against the pain when the hot fire crackled around her.

(_Scene change: why fanfic takes out the asterisks, dashes, plus signs or whatever other means I may use to separate scene changes is a mystery to me_)

Celesta clung tightly to the warhorse's neck as it charged through the trees. Branches whipped by, clawing at steed and rider alike.

She was free from the vile clutches of the wizard and his evil companions—especially the perverted human. She was free due to the sacrifice of another halfling whose name she didn't even know. She had no doubt that he and the human paladin and the elf woman were part of that band that Athmek feared was following them.

Behind her came a flash, followed by a muffled roar of fire. The horse skidded to a stop, craning its head around to look toward the explosion. It hesitated, as if it was deciding whether to go back for its master or to follow its master's command to take Celesta away from Athmek's band.

Celesta did not want to go back, but her freedom had been purchased by the intervention of the halfling warrior and his two friends. How could she in good conscious abandon them?

Three figures suddenly emerged from the brush. When she saw the man at the point, with his thick brow and the greenish tint of his skin, Celesta shrieked.

"I have that effect on most women," the orc said, the diction of his Common perfectly enunciated. "It's a good thing I see so few of them at Candlekeep."

The orc's companions, an armored dwarf with a holy symbol and a colorfully-adorned gnome, stepped forward. The dwarf grabbed the horse's reins.

"Katla," he said, caressing its snout.

"Where's Corwin?" the orc asked. "That's his bonded mount. She won't leave him unless he specifically ordered it."

"C-Corwin?" Celesta said. "The paladin?"

The dwarf nodded. "Aye. He should be with an elf maid and a wee one like yourself."

"The flash of light ahead," the orc said. "Methinks it's magic."

"They freed me," Celesta said, her eyes flicking fearfully toward the orc. "The halfling took the Topaz of Halflingkind from me and allowed me to escape."

"Why not take the gem with him?" the dwarf wanted to know.

"Insurance against my escape. Athmek, the wizard, has a monster waiting near my village. If I escape, he'll unleash the monster on my village and all villages in my shire. Your friend probably thought he could stay Athmek's execution order against my people if he carried the Topaz for Athmek." Celesta glanced toward the orc again. "How did you come to be in league with the good guys?"

The dwarf chuckled. "Ah, lass, Kaegan here is not an orc. Well, not a full-blooded orc. He's a half-orc."

"And I'm in league with these fine men out of my own choosing, because their cause is just," Kaegan said. "I like to think that I, too, am a good guy, as you put it."

The dwarf became somber. "Come. If that was a flash from a spell that we saw ahead, I fear for our friends. Katla, I believe Corwin would like you to carry this wee girl to safety. Trust us to go to Corwin's aid."

Katla, the steed, snorted. She shook her mane, hesitating. Finally, she galloped ahead. Celesta wrapped her arms around the horse's neck.

(_Another cumbersome scene change indicator_)

Albrec was never a devoutly religious man, but he thought he'd at least paid the appropriate amount of homage to Yondalla. His surroundings that came into view when his awareness returned was definitely not what he had expected of the afterlife realm of the halfling goddess. Iron bars surrounded him, and he bounced as he lay on a cold, hard surface, each jolt jarring his bones. He felt a heavy weight on his chest, and he slid his hand up to grasp the hard jewel suspended from a fine chain. He didn't have to look at it to know he had the Topaz of Halflingkind.

He sat up and gripped the bars. No, he wasn't in the afterlife—not even in one of the realms of torment. He was still on the mortal plane.

A black-robed figure moved in the shadows created by shafts of sunlight slashing through slats on the sides of the wagon. Albrec was startled by the grotesque mask on the dark wizard's face.

"Hello, little one," the wizard said. "I am—"

"Athmek, I know," Albrec said. "I heard the name mentioned."

"And you are?"

"Albrec Twinblade, formerly of the Waterdhavian army."

"You and your friends were foolhardy attacking my camp as you did. Now your mission has failed with the paladin's death. You no longer have a human to carry the Sapphire."

Albrec's consciousness had been fading during the last moments of the battle. He'd been aware long enough to see Corwin fall from the wizard's cowardly attack from behind. However, he'd also seen Alisia's arrow pierce Territ Fetterlis's chest.

"Seems you're in a bind yourself," Albrec said. "Did you not trade your human for ours?"

"Oh, Territ is very much alive. The same healing magic Rizzan used to save your life was used to save Territ's. My mission continues unhindered."

Albrec put a hand to his belly. The hole in his shirt from the sword thrust was still there, but his flesh was intact. He absently fingered the Topaz.

"I took the burden of this gem so you'd have no cause to kill the girl's people when I freed her," he said.

"And it was a noble act," Athmek said.

"Is her people safe?"

"For the moment. The burden is on you now, Albrec Twinblade. If you fail me, I will order my manticore to slaughter every halfling man, woman, and child in her shire."

Albrec slumped against the side of the cage. "Did you know her name at least?"

"Of course. Celesta Brumble."

"Celesta." Albrec smiled when the name passed his lips. "A beautiful name. It fits her."

Athmek shook his hooded head. "The foolish sacrifices men make for the sake of a beautiful face."

(_scene change_)

Alisia could barely move the pain was so great. She had avoided most of the fireball, but one side of her had still been burned. She could see out of only one eye, her right arm was useless, and half her studded leather jerkin had been burned away. Dragging her burned leg behind her, she inched her way through the crisped foliage toward the clearing. She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, and she didn't know of Corwin and Albrec were even alive. Still, she forced herself to move despite the agony.

She stumbled out into the clearing, and it was empty save for the still form of Corwin sprawled face down on the grass. Albrec was gone, as were the evil thieves. With the halfling girl freed, Athmek needed someone else to carry the Topaz of Halflingkind. As long as he was needed to carry the Topaz, Albrec's life was safe.

Corwin, however, hadn't moved from where he had fallen, and Alisia feared the worst. She limped toward him, dropping to her knees beside him. She didn't see the rise and fall of his breathing, but she hoped that was because such movement was hidden within the confines of his breastplate. The hole burrowed into the steel back of the otherwise shiny armor revealed flesh that had been burned through by acid.

She put the backs of two fingers to the paladin's cheek, what little was revealed by his helmet, and felt warmth. If he was dead, he'd died only recently. She put her fingers near his nose, and she wasn't sure if she felt his breath or not. She was becoming less aware of her surroundings with each passing moment.

Alisia had been weakened by the burns to over half her body, and now what little reserves of energy she had faded. Even her willpower failed to keep her upright, and she slumped across Corwin's armored back.


End file.
